


The Bee Charmer

by WhyTFNot



Category: Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe - Fannie Flagg, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-03-24 12:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyTFNot/pseuds/WhyTFNot
Summary: Fried Green Tomatoes AU with Ginny as Idgie Threadgoode and Luna as Ruth Jamison. When the untimely death of her brothers causes Ginny to run away, it takes her new found friend Luna Lovegood to bring her back to reality and see the bright side of life again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this because I've always seen Ginny and Luna in the characters Idgie and Ruth. For those of you who haven't read Fried Green Tomatoes, I give it the highest recommendation. It's a beautiful story, and i don't think it's themes or its characters will ever leave me. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy my story.

There wasn’t a family in town that didn’t know the Weasleys. And there wasn’t a family in town who didn’t love them. Molly Weasley, at one time or another, had knitted sweaters for every man, woman, and child that lived in a five-mile radius. It didn’t matter the occasion. Christmas, Easter, Birthdays, even if you just wanted one. She liked just about everyone she met, and what better way to show it than through a thoughtful gift. Her husband, Arthur, was just as well loved, by muggles and wizards alike. The man would help you move in or move out, he would fix your car for you, or even just listen to you complain about your neighbor. They were there for everyone, and they had raised their children to be just as kind. 

 

Their eldest, Bill Weasley, had married a charming girl from a couple towns over and now worked for the bank in town. Charlie, their second eldest, had never married but was doing equally well as a dragon trainer in Romania. Neither lived at home anymore, but Bill lived close and Charlie sent postcards when he could.

 

Percy was their next eldest son. Since their older two children had been so independent, and never required much attention, the brunt of Molly and Arthur’s affection went to Percy. He was what you would call spoiled. Always primped and preened, dressing at the height of fashion, enunciating every word, you would think he was from a different family.

 

His two younger twin brothers were quite different. Not a soul in town was more charming than Fred and George Weasley. They had their father’s strong jawline and their mother’s kind eyes, identical except for a few stray freckles. But every single girl in town could tell them apart. When you spend so long looking at a face, you can see it on the back of your eyelids when you close your eyes. The twins knew they were charming, but they didn’t yet know what to do with it.

 

Ron was Molly and Arthur’s youngest son. He was smart and good looking and could have had his pick of the girls as well, if he hadn’t already made up his mind. He had been in love with the neighbors’ girl since anyone could remember, and although they were too young now, he was going to propose to Hermione Granger as soon as he was old enough.

 

It’s hard to stand out in a family this big, but the Weasley’s youngest child was… well, unforgettable. Ginevra Weasley, only eleven, and the family’s only girl, was crazier than a Cornish pixie. She was most often found in a tree top, and her knees had never seen an un-scraped day. She had cropped her hair to the bottom of her chin with one of her brother’s pocket knives when she was seven, much to the dismay of her mother. She loved all her brothers, but she followed Fred and George around like a lost dog. They had taught her to fish, to climb trees, to play quidditch, and how to put dungbombs under Percy’s pillow without him noticing.

The Weasley’s were a big family, and time had started to spread them throughout the country. But today, for the first time in roughly a year, all the Weasley children were under one roof. Why, you might ask? Percy was getting married.

 

“I’m currently taking care of a baby Romanian Longhorn,” Charlie, who hadn’t seen his father in months because of work, was recounting any and every exciting thing that happened since he had been home, and Arthur was listening intently. “The only thing is, it’s imprinted on me, and follows me around singing holes in my clothes.” He fiddled with the burn marks on the sleeve of his suit. “It almost burnt my flat down when I left it with the sitter.” He chuckled as if this was a normal thing that could happened.

 

“Now…Romanian Longhorn. Are those the blue ones with wings, or the red ones without legs?” Arthur had no knowledge what so ever about dragons, he was just happy to see his son, home and only moderately burnt.

 

“No no, they’re the green ones with wings and horns.” Charlie corrected, before launching into a discussion about the Chinese fireballs they were getting ready to observe when he went back.

 

A room away, a very different conversation was happening.

 

“Mother, this is the third time I’ve tied my tie and it’s still not straight.” Molly looked over at her son Percy, her eyes calmly drifting over his tie as he groaned in frustration.

 

“Sweetheart, it looks fine to me.” In her opinion, the tie had been straight the first time he tied it. She tried to hold back her sigh as he untied tied it for the fourth time.

 

“It just has to be perfect. Have you seen Penelope today?” Penelope Clearwater was his bride to be, the daughter of a well to do family down the street, who were just thrilled to be joining houses with the Weasleys. Who wouldn’t be?

 

“Oh yes dear,” Molly gushed, “She looks beautiful. Just wait till you see-“

 

“Ah! No!” Percy plugged his ears and hummed. “I can’t hear anything about it. Not yet!” Suddenly, something red and about the size of a soccer ball bounced off the window. Then red hair flashed by and scooped it up, Ginny Weasley racing the quaffle back into play.

 

Molly groaned as she saw the steam start to billow out of Percy’s ears.

 

“My wedding is in an HOUR and they’re playing quidditch?” He turned furiously to his mother. “Ginny has grass stains on her FACE!” She smiled, and patted his arm.

 

“Sit down for a while son,” She pulled out a chair for him and left the room, “I’ll get them in line.”

 

She walked across the hall to the kitchen and hollered out the back door, “INSIDE! NOW!” The twins, Ron, and Ginny reluctantly put their brooms back in the shed and raced each other back into the house. Molly licked her thumb and managed to grab Ginny as she ran past, trying her best to rub the grass stain off her face. Ginny was trying to master the Wronski Feint, and nine times out of ten it ended with her plunging face first into the ground. “Your outfits are on your beds. PLEASE put them on and be back here in thirty minutes so your brother doesn’t have an aneurism,” She begged as they trotted up the stairs to their rooms.

 

Five minutes passed before she heard an anguished shriek coming from the room of one Ginny Weasley. The defiant eleven-year-old stomped out of her room, a pink frilly organza dress clutched tightly in her fist.

 

“I am NOT wearing this.” She cried, her tone causing Percy to walk out into the hall to meet her.

 

“Oh yes you are! You’re not wearing what you have on now,” Percy growled, gesturing to her torn t-shirt and faded shorts.

 

“Why not? It looks better than what you have on.” Now she was just trying to get a rise out of him. She actually really liked his suit, even though he had insisted on wearing a ruffled dress shirt beneath it.

 

“If you ruin my wedding Ginny Weasley, I will murder you in your sleep tonight.” There faces were inches apart from each other now, the rest of their siblings watching from the sidelines. Nobody butted heads more than Ginny and Percy. “MOM!” Percy yelled, not taking his eyes off his sister.

 

Molly, who had been up since four that morning getting ready, was starting to wish this wedding was over. “Ginny, just wear the damn dress.”

 

“No. Why can’t I wear a suit like the boys?” Ginny crossed her arms, creasing the dress in her hands, much to Percy’s dismay.

 

“Well why can’t she, Percy?” Molly knew that trying to get Ginny to wear a dress would derail the wedding faster than if the bride decided to run away. She looked over her daughter, sizing her up. “It would take me ten minutes to alter one of Fred’s old suits to fit her.”

 

Percy grumbled but he knew he had lost this battle. An hour later, face freshly scrubbed and hair tucked neatly behind her ears, Ginny stood beside her brothers on the groomsmen’s side in one of Fred’s old suits.

 

The wedding was beautiful, and Ginny, feeling quite handsome in her new suit, had graciously decided not to ruin it.

 

The wedding reception was held at the Weasley’s estate, affectionately nicknamed the Burrow. The food Molly had prepared earlier was laid out in a nice picnic spread, and guests were happily eating and congratulating the happy couple. Percy was much calmer with Penelope by his side.

 

Ginny was trailing after Fred and George as they traipsed around the party flirting with all the girls.

 

“Angelina Johnson,” Fred crooned, “Would you like to dance with me?” The two of them had been back and forth for a few years now. She playfully swatted his hand away when he offered it, but eventually made it out on the dance floor with him.

 

“And you, little lady,” George spun his sister around as she giggled, “How about you dance with me?”

 

Ginny crinkled her nose. “I’d rather dance with Angelina too, but I guess you’ll do.” George laughed. She put her feet on his and he danced her all around the back yard, first a tango, then a fox trot, then a waltz.

 

Soon it was dusk, the appearance of lightning bugs signaling the guests that it was probably time to go home soon. Party guests trickled out and Molly and Arthur began to clean up, helped only by their oldest son Bill and his wife Fleur.

 

Ginny was sandwich between her brothers, holding their hands as her, Fred, and George walked along the train tracks that ran through their land. Even wizards, used to doing everything by magic, were endlessly fascinated by trains, and no one more so than Arthur Weasley. He had spent countless dinners boring his children with rambling thoughts about how he thought trains worked, and how he was always so impressed with what muggles did without magic. Even though these conversations were boring, all the Weasley children had to admit, trains were pretty cool.

 

It was a windy night, as they walked along the tracks, and soon a gust of wind caught the brim of Fred’s straw hat, lifting it off his head and carrying down the tracks.

 

“Shit.” He whispered, “I love that hat.” And he went racing off into the night to go get it. George and Ginny laughed as every time he bent to pick it up, the wind blew it a little farther out of his reach. Finally, he managed to trap it, putting Ginny in hysterics as he pretended to wrestle it to the ground. Then he stood up, waving it around like a trophy, and took a deep bow.

 

“What an idiot,” George muttered light heartedly. Suddenly a light lit up the night as a train appeared a little way down the tracks. Fred tried to hop off to walk towards them but faltered. His foot had gotten stuck between the rails. He tugged as his leg frantically, but it wouldn’t move.

 

The train was getting closer.

 

Fred bent down to untie his shoe, hoping to slip his foot out, but he couldn’t get the laces loosened fast enough.

 

“FUCK!” Ginny could hear the fear in George’s voice as he started to sprint towards his brother. She started after him, but he turned and shoved her to the ground, out of the way of the tracks. “STAY HERE!”

 

He picked up his pace, getting to his brother and began tugging at his leg as Fred continued to untie his shoe. Ginny saw them slip his foot out, but the train was already there, its brakes screeching horribly.

 

“FRED! GEORGE!” Tears were streaming down her face and she tried to run towards the tracks, towards where they had been just _seconds_ ago, but a strong arm looped around her stomach, Bill clutching her to his chest.

He held her as she kicked and screamed, as his mother, sobbing, called for a doctor who they all knew wouldn’t be able to do anything. As his father broke beside him, as his other brothers sobbed in the dirt. Bill was the one, tears streaming down his own face, who carried her up to her room, changed her into her pajamas, and put her to bed. Although he could hear from his own room that she didn’t stop crying until sunrise the next morning.

 

Ginny Weasley’s heart broke that night. Even wizards don’t have a cure for that.


	2. Chapter 2

Everyone in town came to the funeral. Except for one person.

 

Ginny couldn’t bring herself to get closer than a hundred yards from the grave. She had scaled a tree in the garden, her black pants torn at the knee from climbing, and was nestled in the crook of a limb, watching the procession. She had braided her hair the way Fred had liked it and had thrown on the black jacket that George had given her when he had grown out of it. But sitting there up in the tree, hearing the sniffles of the girls from town, and the muffled sobs of the rest of her family, she felt sick.

 

She had _wanted_ to go. There was nothing she wanted more in the entire world than to say goodbye. But every time she tried to will herself to get down from the tree her knees began to shake, and her stomach twisted, and her eyes welled with tears.  She had thrown up four times since she had woken up that morning. Nothing came up anymore, just a clear viscous liquid.

 

She saw her mother turn her head from beside their grave to look at her. And something inside her broke.

 

How was she supposed to live in that house again? A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye, leaving a slick trail down her cheek. Ginny couldn’t imagine walking past their bedroom without them in it. She couldn’t imagine brushing her teeth every morning in the bathroom they had shared and not having them walk in on her. She couldn’t imagine breakfast without having to fight George for the butter or walking home from school without Fred waiting for her outside. How could there be birthdays without them, or Christmas, or Easter? How was life supposed to go on?

 

She looked over her shoulder at the Burrow and decided if Fred and George were never going to live there again, she didn’t want to either.

 

So, she took the only way out she could think of. She hopped out of her tree and ran away.

 

Molly saw her hop down and start to sprint towards the woods but didn’t call out. Sometimes you have to let your children find their own way. To grow. To heal.

 

Ginny sprinted through the forest until she couldn’t breathe. Twenty minutes later she was standing bent over by the riverbank gasping for air and sobbing. She had lost both of her shoes while she was running, and the bottoms of her feet were shredded. She could feel them bleeding into the dirt.

 

She clutched her ribs, and fell hard on her ass, slipping her feet into the cool water of the river.

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Taking as big a breath as her aching lungs would allow, she screamed as loud as she could, coughing and spluttering through her tears.

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” She let out another wail. It didn’t help the ache in her heart, but she didn’t know what else to do.

 

“You know, ya keep screamin like that, yer gonna scare away all my fish.” Ginny started as she realized for the first time that she wasn’t alone. Turning her head, she saw a massive man with arms the size of her entire body sitting a few feet down the river bank. The home-made fishing pole he was holding was bobbing in the water.

 

His eyes widened in shock as he watched the tiny frame of the girl crumple to the ground, sobbing in anguish and clutching at the dirt. He planted his fishing pole in the ground, and awkwardly got up to go over to her.

 

“I didn’t mean ter scare ya.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, his hands big enough to wrap around her entire arm and put her back up in sitting position. He tucked his thumb under the sleeve of his enormous shirt and tried to wipe some of the snot off her face. “My names Hagrid. Ya look like you could use a drink.”

 

Ginny’s sniffling had quieted while the old man had sat her up and wiped her tears. “I’m only eleven.”

 

“That’s neat. I’m…” He counted on his fingers, “Sixty-Eight I think.” He reeled in his fishing pole, stuck it in his pocket, and started meandering off into the woods. Ginny assumed that since he hadn’t seemed fazed by her age, the drink offer was still on the table. She wiped her eyes again and then scrambled off after him.

 

Hagrid stopped at a run down shed in the middle of the woods. There were string lights wrapped around the moldering porch and the gutters, and Ginny could hear music and laughter inside. Hagrid burst through the door, nearly taking it off it’s hinges, and shouted jovially, “Barkeep! Two firewhiskeys!” Ginny stepped into the dilapidated building after him, trying to hide in his shadow as he walked over to a table and sat down, the chair disappearing beneath him.

 

She sat down as well, curiously looking around her. The small building was filled with people, but they didn’t look like the people Ginny was used to seeing in town. There was a man only wearing one shoe, dancing with a lady wearing pants, her hair done, and her face heavily made up. A couple of hunters sulked in the corner, cleaning their guns and talking about dinner. Two women were dancing on a table together, laughing and giggling, swishing their skirts around them. Heads would have turned if any of these people walked down main street, but here not a soul batted an eye as the woman on the table dipped her dancing partner and kissed her full on the mouth. Except Ginny of course, who looked away blushing.

 

The barkeep, a man named Tom who looked as if he had been around to see the dinosaurs go extinct, slid their whiskeys onto the table, only looking a little startled when he saw how young Ginny was.

 

“What’s yer name kid?” The giant sitting across the table asked her.

 

“Ginny.” She took a sip of her whiskey, immediately spitting it back into the glass. “This tastes like gasoline on fire.”

 

Hagrid laughed. “Ya get used to it. Ya look lost. Do ya need a place ter stay?” He didn’t ask her what had happened or what was wrong. Ginny was thankful for that, because she didn’t know if she would ever be able to say it out loud.

 

She nodded. Hagrid got up slowly and walked over to Tom behind the bar. He spoke quietly, and pointed over at Ginny every so often, and eventually Tom nodded his head and slipped Hagrid a key. Hagrid sauntered back over to the table. He handed the key to Ginny. “I got ya a room. Yer to stay as long as ya like, fer free, as long as ya promise ter help with the kitchen.” Ginny looked up at him wide eyed as she slipped the key in her pocket.

 

She’d stay for five years.

 

The folks down at the cabin loved her. Hagrid taught her how to play poker, and by the time she turned twelve she was cleaning out pockets night after night.

 

Tom soon found she was useless in the kitchen, as she couldn’t cook and had low standards when it came to cleaning, so he put her to work behind the bar. The customers were quite fond of the tiny little bartender whose wit was as fiery as her hair.

 

She went fishing every weekend she could with a pair of boys that came end at the end of every work week. Dean and Seamus taught her how to tie better fishing knots, the spots in the river where the biggest fish were, and how to cast without getting the line stuck in a tree. Hagrid warned her that if she hung around them long enough one was bound to fall in love with her. Ginny was the only one who knew they were more interested in each other.

 

Slowly, Ginny began to piece herself back together over those five years. She had grown to tolerate whiskey, but only drank it on those nights she couldn’t sleep, seeing her brothers’ faces every time she closed her eyes.

 

She couldn’t bring herself to go back home for good, but every so often she would walk to the edge of the forest to watch her family. If she climbed a certain tree high enough, she could look past her old tree in the garden to the porch. She liked seeing her family, counting heads, making sure they were all still there.

 

Molly Weasley’s heart still ached from the day she lost three children, not just two. But some days, as she walked passed the window, she would see a flash of red hair past the edge of the forest, and for a moment, the pain would ease. Ginny was ok. Ginny was still out there.

 

They had come up with a system, mother to daughter. If Molly needed to see her, if there was important news to be shared, she would tie a ribbon on the lowest branch of Ginny’s old tree in the garden. When Ginny saw it, she would come timidly out of the forest and Molly and her family would get to see her, even if it was only for a few hours. She still couldn’t stand to be in that house for too long.

 

Molly yearned for a way to bring her daughter back. A way to mend her broken heart. But how do you tell a child, who has stared death in the face as it stole from her, to move on?

 

You can’t.

 

But one day, Molly stumbled upon what she thought…what she _hoped_ … was a solution.

 

A young school teacher was coming to town for the summer to help with the church and needed a place to stay.

 

_Luna Lovegood_ , the advertisement said. _Please contact for more information._


	3. Chapter 3

Ginny was sixteen years old when she saw that fateful ribbon. She had finished fishing that day and was heading back to the cabin in the woods when she thought to pass by her old house and see how everyone was. From a distance of course. But when she got there, on its usual branch, was a thin blue ribbon flapping in the wind.

She set down her fishing pole and slung the string of fish she had caught that day over her shoulder. As she walked towards the house she tried to remember what day it was. No one’s birthday was soon so it couldn’t be that, and no major holidays were coming up. Not coming up with any happy reasons for her mother to need her, Ginny quickened her pace. She listened as she got closer for sobs, or screams, but could only hear laughter as she approached the back door.

“Ron! Stop! You’re getting flour in my hair!” Hermione giggled, her breath making clouds of flour rise from the table where she was baking. Ron, one arm around her waist, was drawing pictures in the flour, and just generally getting in her way. They both looked up when she opened the door. “Ginny!”

Hermione, who did indeed have flour in her hair, unwrapped Ron’s arm from her waist and went to give her a hug. “It’s great to see you.”

Ginny tried to ignore the undertones of sympathy in her voice. “I brought dinner.” She plopped down the fish she had caught on the kitchen table. They were supposed to be for Tom, but she supposed she could always get him some more tomorrow.

“Oh good!” Hermione took the fish to the sink and began to rinse them under the water. She shot a knowing glance over at Ron, who cleared his throat.

“You know, Ginny, Mom was wondering if you’d stay for dinner tonight.” He said, shaking flour out of his own hair. Ginny shrugged off the invite like she always did, rambling about how Tom was expecting her, and she had to work tonight, and if she wasn’t there to beat everyone at poker, Hagrid would win, and you know how that goes to his head.

“Well,” Hermione said, “Your mom would like to see you regardless. I think she’s in the parlor.” So, Ginny went the next room over, expecting to say hi to her mother and go home.

“Hey mom! I-“ Ginny burst through the door to the parlor but stopped short when she realized that her mother wasn’t the only one there.

“Ginny!” Her mother grinned from the couch. “I’d like you to meet Luna Lovegood. She’ll be staying with us for the summer.”

There was a beautiful girl sitting on the couch, her long dirty blonde kept off her face by the wand tucked behind her ear. She waved when Molly introduced her, her pale silvery eyes smiling up at Ginny.

Ginny was suddenly very aware of the fact that she had dirt on her face and wasn’t wearing any shoes.

“Hi Ginny. Your mom says you’ll be joining us for dinner?” Her voice was soft, almost floating through the air as she spoke. Ginny clung to every word.

“Oh…Um..” Ginny stammered. She hadn’t eaten dinner with her family in five years. But this pretty girl was asking her to and she just couldn’t say no. “I- I just have to go upstairs and get changed.” She turned on her heel, trying to ignore her blushing face, trying to ignore her mother’s grin at her back, and walked upstairs and into the room she hadn’t seen since the day she ran away.

She closed the door and slid onto the floor. What was she doing? She looked around the room that hadn’t been touched since she was eleven, the quidditch posters still on the wall, now peeling a little. Her breath hitched a little as she saw a rock that Fred had given her cause he thought it was pretty. And the broom polishing kit George had given her when her dad got her her first broom. She picked up the rock and rubbed it with her thumb, turning it over in her hand. She still missed them as much as she had in the beginning. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. What would they say if they could see her now?

She walked over to the bathroom sink, listening to her brothers’ voices in her head. George would laugh at her for crushing so easily on this Luna girl. Like he had a right to laugh, considering how easily flustered he was around Katie Bell. Fred would try and give her advice. Hold your head up high, he would say, look her in the eye when she speaks to you, and smile Ginny, you have a beautiful one. She’d hang on to every word he said, knowing she’d forget it again as soon as Luna walked into the room.

She looked at herself in the mirror. There was dirt on her face and a scratch on her chin. She’d fallen out of the tree she had been fishing from when one fish pulled too hard. She splashed water on her face, grimacing as it stung her cut, and rubbed until it was clean and shining. She put some water on her hands and slicked her hair back behind her ears. She’d brush it too, but she couldn’t find one.

Walking back into her room, she decided she couldn’t eat dinner with this stranger in her torn overalls and grubby t shirt. Unfortunately, all the clothes in her closet were still eleven year old sized. She apparated into the kitchen.

“Hermione, do you have jeans I could borrow?” The older girl was roughly the same size as her.

“Staying for dinner, are we?” Hermione grinned. Ginny blushed.

“Mom wore me down.”

Ron laughed. “Yeah I’m sure it’s mom you’re getting dressed up for.”

“I’m not getting dressed up,  _ Ronald _ , I just smell like fish and I want to change.”

“Oh, don’t give her such a hard time,” Hermione swatted him on the arm. “I have some in your brother’s room. Bottom drawer on the left.”

Ginny apparated back upstairs. She pulled on some of Hermione’s jeans and started looking around for a shirt. All of Hermione’s were pink, or flowery, or had ruffles, so she grabbed one of Ron’s button downs instead.

With her hair slicked behind her ears, her face clean, and her clothes adjusted Ginny made her way down the stairs.

She walked back into the parlor, where suddenly her mother had important business to attend to in the kitchen, leaving Ginny alone with this beautiful stranger seated on the couch. She was pretty sure that her cheeks matched her hair.

“So…Lun-Luna?” Geez, how embarrassing would it be if she got her name wrong. Ginny thought hard. It was Luna, right?

“Yes?” There were those beautiful, giant silver eyes again. Looking at  _ her. _

“That’s cool…” Ginny couldn’t remember what they were talking about. Honestly, Ginny couldn’t remember how to talk.

Luna laughed. “So your mom tells me that you don’t live with them. Do you live in town?”

“Oh I live in the woods.” She could hear how absurd the words sounded coming out of her mouth, and immediately regretted them. “I mean, like, not in a cave-“

“Well that’s a relief.”

“I work in a bar that’s back there. The landlord lets me stay.”

“You work in a bar? You must be, what, sixteen?”

“Seventeen in a few months.” Ginny didn’t know how to stop blushing. She was starting to think that all her blabbering was freaking Luna out.

“Well, I hope I’ll see you around while I’m here.” Luna leaned forward, smiling. Her waist length hair brushed along the edge of the couch.

“Girls?” Molly Weasley’s head popped out from behind the kitchen door. “Dinner’s ready.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, it's been a hot minute

Gradually, Ginny began to make more frequent appearances at her old house. It still hurt of course. She couldn’t spend more than a few hours inside at a time before feeling trapped, like fire was burning under her skin. But she didn’t have to go inside to see Luna. 

 

Stories of the new school teacher down at the church that summer spread like wildfire through the town. All the children there loved her, and she had a growing number of pupils who would follow her home after school so they could listen to her tell stories on the Weasley’s porch. 

 

If Ginny sat in the tree in the yard she could listen too, and pretend she wasn’t. 

 

Luna sat on the top step of the porch, her legs crossed under her long skirt, and her hair tied up in a bun. Her tiny crowd of tiny people were gathered around her, listening to her talk while she worked on embroidering a scrap of fabric. 

 

“Does anybody know what a nargle is?” Luna asked as she poked the needle through the fabric on her lap. Her question was met by shaking heads, but curious eyes. “Well, nargles are terrible little creatures. They’re fast,” She pinched the arm of the little boy next to her playfully, “And they’re thieves! Terrible terrible thieves!” The children laughed as she pretended to snatch away one of the little girls hair ribbons. 

 

“Be careful around christmas time…” Luna started, absentmindedly working on her embroidery.

 

“But I love christmas,” One of the boys whined.

 

“Oh, but nargles live in mistletoe. You have to keep them away, or they might decide to steal your presents.” Gasps rippled through the crowd.

 

“How do we keep them away, Ms. Luna?” A little girl asked fearfully. 

 

“People will tell you all sorts of things, but I’ve only found one thing that works...Butterbeer corks.” She said, pulling her collar down to reveal a butterbeer cork necklace. “Don’t worry, we’re safe. I’m always prepared.” The children sighed. 

 

“Ms. Luna?” A little girl said, holding tightly to her friends hand. “What do they look like?”

 

Luna pulled the needle through her scrap of fabric one last time, and placed it between her lips tenderly, holding it tight. She smiled and turned the fabric around, showing a slender alien looking creature made of colorful thread. “Like this!”

 

The children giggled as they passed around the silly creature.

 

Ginny, who had been watching the scene unfold from a distance, couldn’t help but smile as she watched the other girl entertain her tiny crowd. Luna brought a light to the house that had been missing for… well, quite a while.

 

Eventually the children were summoned home for dinner by parents shouting from front porches. Luna waved them off, sending them home running, and giving one girl her butterbeer cork necklace in order to convince her that nargles weren’t going to come through the window that night and steal her cat.  

 

Luna looked up as the last child left the yard, to find the redhead in the sycamore tree looking away quickly, trying to pretend she hadn’t been listening. She walked over. 

 

“I think I may have scared them a bit.”

 

“I think you’re starting to build a little cult.” Ginny looked at Luna shyly, fiddling with a twig she had been whittling earlier. 

 

Luna leaned against the tree branch Ginny was sitting on. “Are you staying for dinner? I helped your mom make pie for dessert today.”

 

Ginny hesitated. “I don’t know. I was planning on going fishing before work at the bar tonight…”

 

Luna furrowed her brow and held up a finger. “Stay there for just one second.” She ran back into the house and came out a second later with two parchment paper wrapped sandwiches. “Let me come with you.”

 

“What about the pie?” Ginny hopped down from her tree branch and took one of the sandwiches that Luna offered. 

 

Luna linked arms with her and let Ginny lead her into the forest. “Didn’t you hear me? I said I helped make it.” She laughed. “It’s going to be terrible.”

 

The two girls walked into the forest together. Ginny carefully led her through the winding trails of the forest, heading to her favorite fishing spot, while Luna’s melodious voice filled her ears with stories from her day. 

 

Finally they reached the edge of the river, and Luna fell silent, her eyes wide. Ginny’s heart fluttered, simultaneously caught between wondering if this was a mistake, and wondering if Luna’s eyes had always been that blue. 

 

Luna blinked once and grinned up at Ginny. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

 

They sat together, close, and let their feet dangle in the rushing water, Ginny in the process of rigging her pole.

 

With a well practised toss, Ginny let her line out into the water, the hook making a faint splash as the current tugged the line downstream. She was overly aware of Luna’s thigh touching her own, could feel Luna’s hair grazing against the back of her arm. 

 

“So- So why did you come here for the summer?” Ginny’s voice cut through the lilting silence like a nail through glass. She winced at the abrasiveness. 

 

Luna looked over. “Oh...I needed a job, mostly. Or a change of scenery for a while. It’s nicer here, I like it.” She smiled.

 

Ginny paused. Nicer, not nice. “Nicer than what?”

 

“Uh…” Luna hesitated, with a look on her face Ginny hadn’t ever seen before. Kind of like she was trying not to say what she really thought. “My hometown, I guess.” Her voice had gotten quieter, although the same inner strength was still there. “The people here are different.” 

 

Ginny gently pried a little further. “Different how?”

 

“They like me.”

 

Silence. Fishing pole forgotten and mouth slightly open, Ginny looked over at the other girl, wondering how anyone could not like her. Luna’s personality shone just as brightly as her golden hair, and everyone in town seemed to agree. In the few weeks that she’d been there Ginny had seen her flourish as a school teacher but also as a friend. Luna helped her mom cook, even though she was awful. She helped the neighbors plant their garden, and would bring tiny found presents for their kids. She cheered on the neighborhood quidditch games and brought snacks for after. The children loved her, the parents loved her, Ginny -

 

“What?” Ginny bit her lip.

 

“Uh-” Luna still seemed to be struggling to find the words she wanted to use. “It’s not that the people in my hometown don’t like me, it’s more of that I don’t fit in as well, I guess.”

 

Over the next half hour, Luna recounted misfortune after misfortune from her old town, each gut wrenching tale spun in the happiest of tones, as if the girl couldn’t force herself to pin blame on her torturers. She told Ginny about how the church gossips made fun of the embroidery she did on her clothes and the way she wore her hair. 

 

“But that’s ok, I know it’s not for everybody.”

 

She told Ginny how the school children thought it was funny to steal her shoes, and then their parents would gape at her when she walked barefoot to the store. 

 

“But that’s no problem. They always find their way back to me. The shoes, I mean.”

 

Ginny sat stunned as Luna continued, speaking sweetly about people who mocked her beliefs, stole her things, and spoke behind her back, calling them by name and including their back stories as if they were old friends. 

 

“Why don’t you leave?”

 

“I don’t know where I’d go.” Luna said. “And I have family there.”

 

It was getting dark now, so Ginny reeled in her pole for the last time, her mind also reeling from Luna’s revelations. She didn’t understand how someone could go through all that and still be kind. Still be happy.

 

Ginny wrapped up the small pile of fish that she had caught that afternoon, and stood up. She offered a hand to Luna who was still sitting on the ground.

 

“I want to show you something.”  Maybe, Ginny thought, if she made Luna’s stay here incredible, going back wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe, if she made it good enough, Luna wouldn’t go back at all. 

 

A few minutes later the girls were standing in front of a small cabin, wrapped in string lights and pulsing with music. “Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron.”

 

Ginny grabbed Luna’s hand and dragged her inside.


	5. Chapter 5

The music drifted softly out of a dim corner as the patrons already in the bar chatted, danced, ate, and drank. It sounded like the raspy vocals of Myron Wagtail. As Ginny led Luna inside and closed the door behind them, Tom spotted her from behind the bar and waved.

 

“Dinner,” Ginny said as she handed him the fish she had caught.

 

“Who’s your friend?” Was all Tom said in reply, grabbing the line and handing them behind him to Seamus Finnegan who was in the kitchen, precariously trying to light the grill. 

 

“This is Luna Lovegood. She’s staying with my family for the summer.” Tom and Seamus shared a knowing look. This was not the first time the name Luna Lovegood had been mentioned behind the bar. 

 

Ginny hopped over the bar, sliding across the aged wood to the other side. “Use the damn door,” Tom shouted over his shoulder, not in the mood to watch her show off to her friend.

 

But Ginny just smiled and motioned to Luna to have a seat. “What do you drink?”

 

Luna, still busy craning her neck trying to take in the place, turned forward again to face Ginny. “Oh I don’t know.” She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t drink very often.”

 

Ginny grabbed two firewhiskeys from below the bar. “That’s ok. We’ll start you off slow.” She popped the caps off and handed one to the girl sitting across from her, taking a sip of her own. 

 

Luna eyed the bottle the bottle before tasting it, visibly repressing her grimace after the first sip. “So…” She coughed, “This is where you run off to every other night?” She coughed again. 

 

Ginny laughed, “Not a fan, huh?”

 

“No it’s good,” Luna tried to take another sip and nearly choked on a cough. “Ok no,” she spluttered, “It’s awful, how do you do this?”

 

Ginny laughed, taking Luna’s bottle away. “Practice,” She said as she poured Luna some pumpkin juice instead, laughing again at her sigh of relief as she slid it across the bar. 

 

They sipped their drinks in respective silence for a while, Ginny eyeing Luna, and Luna eyeing her surroundings. 

 

“I really like this place,” Luna said after a while. She leaned forward, “You seem very comfortable here.” She had noticed a change in the redhead’s demeanor as soon as they had wandered into the yard. They way she stood more confidently, breathed a little easier, smiled a little wider. This was home to her, Luna could tell.

 

Ginny laughed nervously. “I suppose I may be a little more comfortable here than I am at home.”

 

“Why?” Luna’s large blue eyes pierced Ginny’s own as her smile faltered. 

 

“Uh,” Ginny knew Luna’s curiosity came from a good place but it didn’t change the fact that Ginny had never verbalized it before. She swallowed, hard. “Two of my older brothers died there a few years ago. I guess,” She bit her lip, willing the tears that had sprung to her eyes to disappear. “I guess it just hurts too much to stay there.” She finished her drink in one gulp, setting the empty bottle down on the bar, and picking up Luna’s barely touched one. 

 

Luna bit her bottom lip, speaking softly. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s ok.” Ginny took another long gulp of firewhiskey. “It was a long time ago.”

 

“Still,” Luna said, maintaining eye contact even when Ginny darted her own eyes around the room uncomfortably. “The wounds no one else can see take the longest to heal. I think we like to hold on to them. Like if we let them go the memories would leave us too.” Luna sipped her pumpkin juice, leaning back as if they were just chatting about the weather.

 

Ginny let out a weak laugh. “You don’t really know how to do small talk, do you?” She used the pad of her thumb to wipe away a tear that had escaped and was running down her cheek. 

 

“I’m sorry. I can be a little intense.” Luna smiled across the bar. “But really, is anything small talk?” She put her chin in her hand. “Even if you’re telling me your favorite color, I’m learning something about you. I’d hardly call that small.”

 

Ginny stood there, one hand on the bar, one hand wrapped around her drink. She took a long sip and gulped painfully before finally returning Luna’s stare. “Yellow. That’s my favorite color.”

 

As the night went on the bar stools filled up and the music got louder. The rest of Ginny and Luna’s conversation was punctuated by introductions and pouring drinks and laughing at jokes. Ginny used one hand to pour Dean Thomas a firewhiskey, the wand in her other hand lifting bottles off the shelf behind her so she could pour shots for the group of hunters that just banged through the door. “Seamus is working the grill tonight, and we’ve only had to put out one fire.” She said proudly as she slid him his glass.

 

Dean, who had recognized Luna from Ginny’s incessant fishing trip chatter and had immediately introduced himself, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pointed past the bar to the man with slightly singed blonde hair who was flipping burgers at the grill. “Luna, if he manages to not set himself on fire, I’m going to marry that man one day.”

Dean and Luna actually got along famously, which was good because the bar kept Ginny preoccupied for a while. He was currently fawning over the intricate embroidery along the hem of her dress.

 

“You did this yourself?” He asked, his eyes wide. “They’re so lifelike, how do you do this with thread? Do you use magic?”

 

“Sometimes, if I want something to move, but there’s something really satisfying about doing it the old fashioned way.”

 

“You can make them move!?”

 

“Yeah, watch!” Luna slipped her wand out from behind her ear, pointed at a tiny thread deer and whispered a little enchantment. The deer turned its embroidered head, the thread weaving itself through the fabric almost like gears moving in a clock. He wiggled his tail and winked at Dean who gasped. “I haven’t quite figured out how to make it last more than a few hours, but it’s something.”

 

Dean was barely listening now, rummaging through his bag until he came back up holding a small leather book. He opened it on the table revealing pages and pages of detailed sketches. They seemed to be mostly birds, and deer, stuff he probably saw in the forest. He landed on a page with a hawk in mid flight. “Does it work with sketches or just thread?”

 

Luna’s eyes lit up as she pulled the sketchbook closer. “It’s actually easier with sketches. And Dean,” She looked up at him, “These are amazing.”

 

She showed him how to move his wand and what to say so that his hawk flapped its wings. She showed how to make the graphite tree branches stretched across the page move in the wind. Soon he could make the deer run through the pages on his own. “Seamus is going to flip his shit when he sees this.”

 

The jukebox in the corner shuddered a bit as it flipped to the next song, a new one from the Weird Sisters. The atmosphere in the bar picked up, people moving from seats to the dance floor. Luna leaned across the bar, where Ginny was polishing glasses and watching Dean try and make one of his sketches dance. 

 

“Ginny, dance with me?”

 

“I have to stay behind the ba-”

 

“I’ll cover for you.” Dean piped up, already through the hinged door to the other side. 

 

Ginny blushed and hopped over the bar, taking Luna’s hand. 

 

“Use the damn door, Weasley!”

 

Luna dragged her right into the middle of the crowd, surrounding them with elbows and ankles and laughter. She smiled as she spun Ginny to the beat, the redhead stumbling a little as she twirled. Luna wasn’t that graceful herself, but she danced like that tiny square of floor in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron was the only place she had ever wanted to be and Ginny couldn’t tear her eyes away. 

 

The song ended, the throng of people making their way back to seats and drinks and lovers, leaving the two of them alone on the floor. 

 

“I love that song.” Luna said, and Ginny nodded in agreement, knowing that the song would be the only thing she would hear every time she saw a flash of blonde hair, or met a pair of blue eyes. 

 

Luna looked out the window, noticing the moon shining above the trees. “I should probably head back. It’s getting late and I don’t want your mother to worry.”

 

Ginny looked over her shoulder at Dean, still behind the bar. He nodded. “Let me walk you.”

 

The music faded as they walked deeper into the forest, soon the sound of their footsteps the only thing separating them from total silence. 

 

“Thank you for taking me there. I had a good time.”

 

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Summer’s only just begun and I already know your family’s going to make it very difficult for me to leave.” Luna smiled fondly, but Ginny’s heart froze in her chest.

 

“Then don’t leave.”

 

Luna laughed, Ginny’s suggestion plummeting to the ground, her stomach along with it. “I have to Ginny. I have family waiting for me. And a fiance.”

 

Ginny stopped walking and Luna turned to face her. The moon glinted off a ring on Luna’s left hand that Ginny had never noticed, or had maybe just chosen not to. 

 

“You’re engaged?”


End file.
